


Salty Sweet

by orphan_account



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 10:33:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5582326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rung witnesses Rodimus being rude to a member of staff at the hotel he, Megatron + Ultra Magnus are staying at. Rung decides this is unacceptable and decides to teach Rodimus some manners. Rodimus, being boorish and cocky accepts Rung’s offer - but he has no idea what he’s getting into…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salty Sweet

Rung had taken offence with the way Rodimus had spoken to the curvaceous organic manning the check-in desk. In the elevator up to their room, Rung had pressed his lips together tightly and contained his irritation, the others didn’t recognise his silence, which made Rung’s spark flutter angrily.

By the time he and Rodimus were entering their hotel room, laden with luggage, Rung was hopping mad and dumped his suitcase with a violent shove.

Rodimus was taken aback. He’d been unaware Rung was capable of losing his cool. When Rung confronted Rodimus the little orange mech wagged his finger, his eyebrows knitted together and creased his face. Rodimus had to pause and concentrate, intensely deliberating whether or not what he was seeing was actually _real._

“Huh?” He hadn’t heard of word of the lecture spat at him shrilly. Rung waved his hands in the air. He asked how Rodimus would like to be objectified and disrespected and made to feel _uncomfortable_?

Rodimus shrugged and put his cases on his berth.

“Didn’t mean anything by it,”

Rung hissed through his teeth,

“That is not the point! _Primus forbid_ you actually learn some manners, Rodimus.”

Rodimus scoffed,

“And I suppose you’d be willing to teach me,” he hadn’t intended to be taken seriously, but Rung’s countenance darkened with a thirst and Rodimus felt a thrill of trepidation trickle down his spine; the challenge had been _accepted_.

The hotel was a one-night stopover. Hardly glamorous but sufficient. Ultra Magnus, Megatron and Rodimus were due to barter and trade supplies with the planet’s leading government the following morning. Rung was present for the usual reason: He just was.

Their sleeping arrangements were allocated _randomly_ although, when the straws were drawn, Megatron outright refused to share a room with _petty Hot Rod_ and Ultra Magnus nervously claimed that a night in close quarters with the flamboyant co-captain could be damaging to his health. Which left Rung to tackle Rodimus’s energy and tantrums and, as he was practiced in the art of patience, Rung had methods and subduing the captain that Rodimus had never even imagined.

When Rung agreed to teach him patience, Rodimus had laughed, dry and derisive, insensitive _ha!_

Rung was small, quietly spoken even when trying to shout, what authority could he possibly show Rodimus?

“You like interfacing, don’t you Captain?”

That certainly piqued Rodimus’s interest. The tips of his excessive helm crests twitched.

“Yeah…” Rodimus shifted his weight from side to side. Rung’s expression was decidedly hungry.

“Then I’ll teach you in a language you can understand…”

Rodimus didn’t expect to learn anything. His arrogance blinded him from seeing beyond the fun side of this practice, or the seriousness in Rung’s face. Rung’s previously hidden deviance exposed an attractiveness that Rodimus had never noticed before. He didn’t assume Rung was capable of much, stereotyping Rung as meek and demure. Rodimus forgot that this was about him and became flirtatious, dancing around Rung like a lurid cat about to lap sweet, sweet cream. _This holiday is going to be fun!_ Getting laid in the first half hour of being at the hotel - _excellent!_ Rodimus glorified an achievement he’d yet to receive and was entirely unprepared for what Rung had in store.

The usual seduction tactics that worked like charms for Rodimus were flouted, Rung yanked the reigns of control out of Rodimus’s hands and overwhelmed him with some very _unorthodox_ teaching methods.

Rodimus was so amazed he didn’t protest - if it was confined to the hotel room that would have been fine, unfortunately, Rung theorised that the most memorable lessons were the ones taught _outside_ of the classroom…

They met Ultra Magnus and Megatron in the restaurant downstairs and were seated at a table. Rung sat opposite, Megatron was to Rung’s right and Ultra Magnus sat beside Rodimus. The waiter had just delivered the menus and Rodimus scrambled to snatch one up first and hide his head between the pages. Already he was breaking out into a sweat.

Ultra Magnus narrowed his optics and watched Rodimus closely. His captain was…behaving strangely.

“Rodimus,” Ultra Magnus cleared his throat, and Rodimus cautiously peeped over the top of the menu, trying disguise the lower half of his face and hide his trembling mouth. “Are you alright?”

Creases appeared at the corners of Rodimus’s eyes and he jigged his knee under the table to the cover a certain hum that echoed in him. Rodimus didn’t understand how the others couldn’t have heard it, even over the restaurant’s din the buzz was deafening to Rodimus.

“YeahFine,” he snapped, optics quickly glancing at Rung, whose expression was savagely stern.

Inside Rodimus’s valve, the speed of the buzzing toy amplified. Rodimus struggled not to make a sound.

Many puzzled over what Rung squirrelled away in his secret compartments, well now Rodimus knew, and it was causing him painful, unaddressed arousal. The veins in Rodimus’s neck throbbed with tension.

“Thanks for asking,” Rodimus wheezed and prayed the added politeness it would appease Rung. It did, the speed of the toy eased and was manageable again. But Rodimus’s chest still fluttered, and his vents gasped little puffs of moist air.

Ultra Magnus visibly did not trust the captain’s answer, not when Rodimus’s looks and fidgeting betrayed the captain’s inner turmoil. In a hopeless attempt to mask his desperation, Rodimus forced a smile onto his face. It was strained, it was unconvincing. Rung took a very small sip of weak energon and smugly pretended to be oblivious to the ill-effects of his unconventional style. He hid the remote control wirelessly linked to the toy under the table. Each time Rung’s hands disappeared downward, Rodimus began to panic. He urgently hoped they’d skip the starter and move straight to the main course.

Unfortunately, oblivious to the distress stalling stirred up, Megatron pensively debated every option on the menu. His diet had been meagre and strict for thousands of years, Megatron felt entitled to a little indulgence.

“I think I’ll have the lugnuts for the main course, what about you, Ultra Magnus?”

Ultra Magnus rubbed his chin and made a deep, contemplative noise that rumbled straight through Rodimus and tickled him alongside the vibes throbbing incessantly through his thighs. He made the others wait and wait for Ultra Magnus his response, the agitation boiling in Rodimus was hardly containable, he was one more moment of hesitation away from grinding his teeth.

“Not sure…” Ultra Magnus frowned at the menu, “What’s in the lugnuts?” the four of them were quiet as Megatron read from the menu, below the equator of the table, Rodimus began rocking his aft from cheek to cheek, the vibration of the toy creeping up and down his body like an itch he was forbidden to scratch. It was driving him wild. His exterior node was numb. If Rodimus could only pinch it and relieve himself… but that would be improper.

Megatron droned on, Rodimus’s quivering body stooped close to the table. The moment Rung noticed his slump the pulsating horror in his valve exploded with a furious vibration and Rodimus bolted upright, his knees smacking the underneath of the table causing everything on the surface to bounce.

“Rodimus!” Ultra Magnus was surprised and stilled his unsettled cutlery. A bead of water vapour rolled down Rodimus’s yellow crown. He turned his neck stiffly. Looking at Rodimus’s expression: the locked teeth bared, the squint, it made Ultra Magnus uncomfortable. Rodimus couldn’t tell, he was preoccupied by a desperate battle being waged inside of him: self-preservation versus the wanton need to groan. In an acceptable local, Rodimus would let loose his tongue, but the laws of the alien planet, Rung assured Rodimus, were very strict in regards to public fraternisation. If they knew of the trouble brewing between Rodimus’s legs… well, they could all wave goodbye to that trade agreement.

The threat of exposure made Rodimus so paranoid that he was afraid the greasy thing he could feel leaking down his thighs wasn’t in his imagination. The more he thought about it, the hotter it seemed to get. Rodimus refused to look under the table in case there was a messy puddle growing under his aft. Picturing such and outrageous thing was a mistake…

“Hmmm, I’m not sure about the lugnuts anymore, what are the specials?”

Rodimus’s whole interface clenched hard with tension, the strength of the vibration deadening the parts inside Rodimus’s body that touched the toy. He crossed his legs to contain his imagined fear of leaking lubricants and accidentally squeezed more pressure around the toy. He could feel it shaking inside of him, the humdrum buzz competed against the energon pounding in Rodimus’s audios.

“Are you ready to order?” A waiter approached the table. They had three orange arms and four digits on each hand. Rodimus’s shoulders began to sink in despair, Megatron was still considering all items of the menu.

“Not quite, I’d li”-

“Just _pick_ something!” The cables on Rodimus’s neck stretched as he wheezed. Megatron glared furiously.

“Will you stop embarrassing yourself and sit still!”

Rodimus was about to howl when, suddenly, the toy stopped shaking. A hiccup of surprise trapped in Rodimus’s throat, he lurched in the seat, frightened of spreading the fabled gooey mess leaking from behind his panel. As if waves of stark silence were crashing over him, Rodimus soaked in the intensity of the other writhing feelings compounded within his frame. The loud blasts of air spluttering through his vents, the dryness in his mouth. Rodimus’s throat and chest felt tight and he was so tense he was becoming dizzy, almost as if he’d been so centralised around the nuisance vibration being a part of his body that he now missed it and everything seemed too quiet.

“And what about you, Sir? …Sir?”

A vague bleeping tone flashed in Rodimus’s internal CPU, he answered Rung’s comm. call.

_[[Answer the waiter, Rodimus.]]_

Rodimus’s stained eyes darted to Rung first, then quickly glanced at the waiter who was patiently waiting on Rodimus’s reply. The back of their pen tap - tap - taping on a notepad.

“O-Oh,” Rodimus scrambled for the menu again and balefully dragged his eyes over the contents. It all looked like a blur to him, and the rising pressure to make a decision flustered him all the more.

“I-I’ll have the lugnuts,” Rodimus’s attention darted back to Rung, who had propped his elbows on the table and was glaring at Rodimus intensely over his fingers which he’d threaded together to make a bridge, “Please!” Rodimus amended hastily, as the waiter jotted down his notes.

“And for starters?”

Time didn’t permit him to scan the menu again, everyone was watching him, their stares like a prickly, uncomfortable heat licking up and down Rodimus’s arched spine.

“Soup?” he squeaked and prayed it’d be sufficient, “Please?” Rodimus saw the waiter scratch down the order and he breathed a fulfilling sigh of relief, “Thank you.”

Before the nervous gurgling in his stomach could settle, Rodimus felt the toy give a foreboding twitch. His head snapped up, watching Rung intensely, but Rung purposely avoided looking at Rodimus as he folded his napkin across his lap.

The toy buzzed powerfully then cut off.

Rodimus’s fists squeezed the white table cloth.

_[[What did I do wrong then?!]]_ Rodimus’s voice was shrill and loud in his own head, it was certainly even more frantic sounding to Rung.

Across the table, Rung’s thin lips twitched, but he still refused to give Rodimus any visible attention, instead he struck up a mundane conversation with Ultra Magnus, one he didn’t really have to listen to so Rung was able to continue discretely teasing Rodimus.

_Buzz._ Stop. _Buzzzz_. Stop. **_Buzzzzzzzz!_**

Rodimus roughly shoved his hands between his thighs, accidentally bashing his elbows against the table, but he felt no pain. All other sensations were blanketed by a red haze. Rodimus refused to speak out of fear of whimpering. His own pulse had drained into his valve; a thick, burgeoning throb. It weighed down his spark.

_[[Don’t touch yourself at the dinner table, Rodimus.]]_ Rung crooned, vicious bastard, what did any of this have to do with manners? Trembling, Rodimus eased his hands from between his legs and lay his palms flat on the dinner table, they were clammy and sticky like the waves of heat that rolled off Rodimus’s body and his EM fields were saturated with an explicit and undeniable charge.  

_[[I wasn’t]]_ he protested, feeble and desperate and ignored. The strength of the vibe climbed higher again; the slim, brazen bullet doing its worst. Biting his lips painfully and listening to the dull discussion of tomorrow’s agenda narrated by Ultra Magnus wasn’t enough to distract Rodimus. Maybe if Megatron, who had an ounce of charisma, took over as speaker Rodimus _might_ have been able to drag himself out of the gutters of degeneracy, but his focus was devoured by the arousal swelling in his groin.

He felt the joints in his knuckles lock, his thighs couldn’t squeeze any tighter together, Rodimus was on the edge of madness - his throbbing valve so slick Rodimus was now convinced he’d leave a mess behind on the seat and wondered how the vibe could find the traction to remain inside.

The meal arrived, the starter course. The smell was intense.

“Delicious,” Rung described, but Rodimus found the pungent aroma anything _but_ appetising. It made his tanks flip, and nausea rolled Rodimus’s body like waves of a tsunami tide.

Before taking his first nibble of the iron filings on toast, Rung took the liberty of tweaking the toys settings. The rev of the toy becoming so forceful that the vibrations confounded all of Rodimus’s relays and he could feel the tingle of the electric buzz in his fingertips, shaking his hand as he attempted to spoon feed himself his first mouthful of soup.

The putrid green slop wobbled over the rim of the spoon, most of it splashed back into the bowl, but when other, more violent shudders hit Rodimus some flecks of wayward soup made it as far as the table cloth and left a stain.

“Where are you manners, Rodimus?” Rung said aloud and caught Rodimus off guard. His vocal chords were wound so tightly he could barely manage a squeak of apology and removed his elbows from the table. His hand trembled all the more, a merciless heat pumped throughout his body surrounding Rodimus with an air of humidity he wore like a scarf.

He risked putting the spoon to his lips and slurped.

“ _Rodimus!_ ” Ultra Magnus scolded, wincing, Rodimus removed the spoon from his lips. Barely any of the soup touched the back of his throat, but a fair amount dribbled down his chin. He wiped it aside quickly and after attempting to swallow the thick lump of apprehension building in his throat, Rodimus spoke in a raspy, tense voice,

“Please, may I be excused,” he was only looking at Rung, “I am not feeling well,”

[[ _Please, Rung, please_ ]] He implored, harrowed by the concept of being unable to discretely slip away. If Rung didn’t show him some mercy, Rodimus decided he’d bolt for the bathroom.

The wait for a response was charged with dread, Rung slipped delicately on his drink, then calmly placed the glass aside.

“But the food’s just got here,” Rodimus feared Rung would acknowledge Ultra Magnus’s disapproval and deem his request as more _bad manners_.

It came as a blessed relief to feel the potent throb of the toy begin to fade. Rodimus’s spark leapt.

“I’ll accompany you back to the room, Rodimus, to make sure you’re okay.”

Rodimus very nearly keeled over.

“Thank you!” he almost sobbed, dipping his spoon back into the soup bowl and shoving back from the table in a flurry of excitement to get back to the hotel room.

Rung unduly took his time and tapped his lips dry with his serviette.

“Would you like help standing?” he offered, opposite him Rodimus’s knees were too weak to function. He relied heavily on the table for leverage as he heaved himself out of his chair.

Glancing backward, Rodimus spotted one tiny dew bead of pearly lubricant shining at the centre of the chair and shivers broke out across his body.  

Rung stood beside Rodimus and in an act of chivalry unbefitting of his hidden nature, Rung offered to link arms with Rodimus and support him on their journey back to the hotel room.

“We’ll be back before the main course,” Rung promised cheerily while Rodimus grunted a colourless goodbye to Ultra Magnus and Megatron and hobbled out of the room clutching at Rung’s arm.

Rung placed his palm on Rodimus’s chest to steady the mech as he wobbled one step forward and two steps back. Heat radiated into Rung’s hand and he hissed.

“You’re running hot,”

Even while feverish with arousal, Rodimus mustered a smirk.

“You bet I’m hot,”

Rung sighed as they boarded the elevator,

“Have you learned nothing?”

Rodimus had forgotten what he was supposed to be learning. He leaned against the cool wall of the elevator as it hoisted them toward their floor and gravity brought the pond of lubricant collected in Rodimus’s valve gushing downward.

By the time Rung had swiped his keycard across the door lock and Rodimus was collapsing backward onto his bed with his legs flung wide apart, the lubricant had trickled down as far as his knees.

At last with some comfort of privacy, Rodimus became unreserved, the groan he made was so brassy it was nearly subsonic as he Rodimus allowed his painfully tight interface to burst apart. His spike immediately jutting forward: firm, pulsing thickness made slick by the moisture collected in Rodimus’s clammy joints as he verged on overheating in the restaurant. And his valve, which pointed directly at Rung, was glossy and inflamed to lurid sensitivity. The sight of another’s interface so raw and puffy made Rung’s own valve twitch in sympathy. He stalked closer, watching the pace of Rodimus’s chest rising and falling, steadily becoming more regular until Rung viciously commanded the toy to pulse sporadically. Rodimus’s breathing hitched sharply. Rung could see the pink rear of the toy twitch, it peeped through the frantically squeezing callipers of Rodimus’s valve. Overcome by the sight of gorgeous, sleek attributes spread out in front of him _for him_ , Rung heavily fell onto his knees and pinched the toy between his thumb and forefinger, his hand was trembling as he dragged the device free of Rodimus’s valve and Rung watched Rodimus’s body wildly convulse in the toy’s absence.

Rodimus arched against the berth, pushing his interface up and outward. Rung found himself weaving. He shuffled a little closer and wedged himself between Rodimus’s knees.

“You don’t listen, Rodimus, I hardly think there’s any point trying to teach you…” with some brief adjustments the toy throbbed powerfully in Rung’s grasp. It made his fingers tingle, he could only imagine how potent and strange the feeling throbbing through Rodimus’s body must have been when Rung kissed the very tip of the toy so, so gently to Rodimus’s exterior nub.

A vivid sensation sprung across Rodimus’s frame, he trashed on the berth and clawed at the sheets.

“I _am_ learning, I promise!” he whined, flopping his head to one side. A thin line of drool dried on his chin, “P-Please, Rung, I’m _trying,_ ”

Rung lowered the toy and left Rodimus shivering.

“Are you?”

The fibres in Rodimus’s body had coiled so tightly he was too stiff to talk, but Rung coaxed the words out. He drew a line from the base of Rodimus’s turgid spike to the tip and held the shivering toy slightly under Rodimus’s transfluid duct. Fluids rushed into to Rodimus’s spike, engorging his member, making Rodimus feel even fuller when he already boarded on bursting. The reserves of transfluid bottled up inside Rodimus heaved and a weak pulse of clear fluid was pushed out of the tip of Rodimus’s spike.

He keened, longing to bat Rung’s hand away and cease the blinding sensation, but Rung’s mastery of presence was enough to subdue Rodimus and keep him under control. Rodimus balled his hands and squeezed fistfuls of the sheets. He whimpered and beseeched Rung’s mercy.

“ _Yes!_ I’m trying, really, _really_ hard! Please, Rung - I’ve been good.”

Rung cupped Rodimus’s shaft and lazily stroked. He stilled his hand for a moment and felt the veins of energon protected under thin sheets of metal throb. Rung reached over Rodimus’s hips and gathered Rodimus’s right hand. The action surprised Rodimus, he’d automatically believed it’d be a punishable misgiving to think he was allowed to touch himself, but Rung granted him that privilege and one by one curled the fingers on Rodimus’s right hand around his tender spike.

With a purr, Rung receded and slunk down Rodimus’s body. He pressed the vibrator flat against Rodimus’s inner thigh and Rodimus kicked out, huffing Rung’s name. His heel gently came to rest against Rung’s back, and his thigh stretched over Rung’s shoulder.

“You have been good,” Rung granted and the praise made Rodimus deflate with relief, “but I’m asking what you’ve learned…”

Rodimus lifted his free hand, he brought his knuckles to his lips and chewed, while Rung crept closer to Rodimus’s valve, baiting the anticipation that stirred Rodimus’s spark.

The smell of Rodimus was mouth watering. Rung had barely touched his starter down at the restaurant and now he boarder on a ravenous state of mind. He stretched out his tongue and greedily lapped Rodimus’s valve.

The first stroke of his tongue elicited a moan, the second provoked Rodimus’s thighs to twitch closed around Rung’s helm, encapsulating Rung in a sensual haven. The wet heat billowing out of Rodimus steamed up Rung’s glasses.

The flashy colours of Rodimus’s sweltering interface blurred. Rung was confounded by an opaque, white haze and a few flecks of silvery fluid splashed his lens. He roughly forced his glasses higher up his head and delved deeply into Rodimus, tasting illicit pleasure. The plushness surrounding Rodimus’s valve cushioned Rung’s cheeks. As he pushed between the blinking callipers that protected the inside of Rodimus’s valve, they pressed against Rung’s tongue with force.

Rodimus felt the warm, slithery metal tongue writhe inside of him, it was an acute sensation and his middle was rocked into spasms as Rodimus’s charge overfilled him. Rung was artless, purely glutting himself on what enjoyment he could tease out of Rodimus with his teeth lightly grazing across Rodimus’s exterior node. The sweetness of the sensation was so intense, Rodimus began jerking on his spike to rub the feverish heat out of his body.

Rung smirked, and run his tongue over his lips. which were coated in sticky lubricant. The biolight that gave Rodimus’s exterior node its shape flickered in pulses, synchronised with the turbulent swash of Rodimus’s EM-fields. Unchecked, the EM-fields had freely expanded to surround Rung too and drench him in arousal.

_[[Rung, they’re bringing the main course,]]_ Megatron’s booming voice jolted Rung out of a trance like state.

_[[Noted]]_ Rung responded and curtly ended the transmission. It was hard to dredge up the enthusiasm to go to dinner when he was already indulging in desert.

“Well, Rodimus…” Rung was panting, the thick taste of Rodimus clung to Rung’s taste buds, he fished for the vibrator and sucked it clean before sinking it back inside Rodimus’s wet body.

Rodimus yipped

“…I suppose all you can do is try your best,”

The toy awakened with a low, dull hum. It was subtle at first, and nearly drowned in the volatile spin of Rodimus’s body: his spark and fuel pump and crackling charge generating a thick blanket of sensation, as if no more sense feeling could possibly be squeezed out of Rodimus’s circuit boards… until Rung dialled up the toy to devastating speeds and began fucking Rodimus’s slack valve with his fingers alongside the toy, feeding Rodimus’s staining body much of his hand. Rung could feel the lumps and ridges of Rodimus’s valve, they were smooth and as gleefully accepting of Rung’s pounding pace as Rodimus’s vocal chorus: a mantra of depravity, _yes, please, more!_

Rodimus chanted Rung’s name. His body tightening around Rung’s fingers as the speed of the toy increased and Rodimus teetered on the crest of overload, surfing the surge of euphoria that expanding in his spark like a great, big balloon.

“Oh, Rung! YES!” Rodimus yelled as Rung fastened his trembling lips around Rodimus’s external node and suckled and licked until the pistons in his neck burned.

Rung dimmed his optics and shifted his aft in sultry circles Rodimus could not see.

Each time Rodimus’s fist plunged down the length of his spike, he hit his plating with a loud, wet slap and his knuckles came perilously close to scraping Rung’s nose.

Eventually, the lower curve of Rung’s back was soaking wet with vapour and Rung’s joints burned as if they’d been touched by ice.

He jerked his stiff neck backward, swirling his tongue lovingly around Rodimus’s small exterior nub as he departed, and glanced forward in time to see Rodimus squeeze the first burst of transfluid out of his body and spray his chest.

In pulses, the fluids continued to eject and strike Rodimus’s body - at their apex, the transfluid splashed as far as Rodimus’s chin. Then the pressure in Rodimus’s body started to diffuse and he collapsed, boneless. His spike slapped his middle and settled there, still twitching feebly as aftershocks of decreasing magnitude peaked across Rodimus’s core network.

Rung’s fingers and the vibe slid out of Rodimus’s valve, sucking out a slurry of lubricant from the spent hole that soaked into the bedsheets Rodimus’s squirming aft had dishevelled.

The wetness that clung to Rodimus’s valve glittered, catching the light as he continued to tremble. He was too weak to let his exposure trouble him. His legs tiredly slipped off Rung’s shoulders and thumped against the mattress.

“Megatron rang,” said Rung as pulled a cloth from a discrete compartment and went about smearing the marks off his glasses, “our food has probably been served by now…”

Rodimus yawned,

“Yeah, I know, Ultra Magnus called me.”

“And you answered?!” Rung baulked.

Rodimus made an agreeing sound and Rung looked entirely mortified.

Rodimus smirked,

“I soon realised this was more about you enjoying yourself than it was about me learning manners, but don’t worry - I was certain to let Mags know, with the way you were working we wouldn’t be up here much longer.”

If Rung was capable of changing colour he’d have flushed a darker shade of orange.

“I can’t believe…”

Rodimus just continued to smile and spread the transfluid onto his chest into lazy, swirly patterns. Truly, he had learned nothing at all.

**Author's Note:**

> [ My Safe for work blog ](bammshee.tumblr.com)
> 
> [ My NOT safe for work blog](bammshee2.tumblr.com)


End file.
